2 Steele Press
by SteeleHere44
Summary: Story 2. A new case sends them out of LA. Will they find the time for romance?
1. Chapter 1

STEELE PRESS

Disclaimer:

Remington Steele and its characters are owned by MTM. No copyright infringement intended. For entertainment purposes only.

Set after Season 4. Bonds of Steele and Season 5 are not in my universe.

Chapter 1:

Laura was almost ready, putting on the last details of her makeup. This night was fated to be a glamorous one. The opening night of the "Ancient Greece, Rome and Etruria Collection" was one of the most important events of the season. Exhibited at the Getty Villa, the art Gala would be attended by the most prominent politicians and businessmen of the state, and by all the extravagant millionaires, who, with their generous donations, help California, to be a comfortable home for philanthropists' treasures.

The event would start with a cocktail at the gardens of the Villa, and end with the speech of the Museum's curator inside the building, giving all the attendees the opportunity to appreciate the valuable collection. Statues, busts, and columns would be part of the treasure.

Of course, the etiquette's code would require elegant gowns and black tie. Miss Holt was wearing the same attire she wore at Charlotte Knight's party, a year before, classy and at the same time chic. A little clutch would complete the attire.

Just in time, a knock on the door indicated his presence. Laura opened it, and there he was, looking fabulous in his black tux, a rose in his hand.

"Good evening Miss Holt!" he said, staring at her. "You look wonderful tonight!" And he gave her the flower.

"Good evening Mr. Steele. Oh, thank you! She smelled the flower. "Let me put it in a vase," she said before her blushing face betrayed her ogling. He looked like stunning, as always... And he was hers for the night. The envy of every woman at the gala. She went to the kitchen looking for a vase.

"We have to hurry up. Traffic will be terrible at this hour on a Friday night. Let's go" And with that, walked to the door, a bewitched Mr. Steele just a step behind her. He opened the door of the limo, they got in, and in a minute they were on their way to Malibu.

The place was magnificent. The gardens were lighted with torches showing the road to the entrance of the building, and there was an orchestra playing. A wonderful Gala. Once inside, there was an air of sophistication floating in the room. The attendants were chattering, champagne in hand and various business discussions could be overheard.

Once Mr. Steele and Miss Holt came in, a waiter approached and offered them some drinks. Right after two sips, they were immersed in the middle of the reception, talking to the most prominent people of the city, and possibly of the State. After half an hour of excellent public relations for the agency, a man came over to them, and said, "Hello, Mr. Steele. I am Douglas Shaw. Nice to meet you…"

"A pleasure," he responded. "My associate, Miss Holt, Mr. Shaw. They shook hands, and after the brief introduction, Shaw started to speak, "I want to talk to you in private, Mr. Steele. I need your agency's services for a very urgent and complex matter. When do you think it would be possible for us to meet? We have to maintain this in absolute secrecy."

"Well, Mr. Shaw, perhaps it would be possible to arrange a meeting for tomorrow, at my office. Say the hour, and we'll be there. "

"Nine o'clock?"

"Nine o'clock it will be. See you tomorrow then," said the detective. Mr. Steele gave the man his card, they shook hands again, and just when Mr. Shaw was out of view, he turned and said sadly to Miss Holt, "Goodbye to a perfect Saturday morning enjoying a late breakfast at home…"

"Come on, Mr. Steele," said Laura. "Look to the fuller part of the glass. You are going to spend your Saturday morning enjoying the pleasure of being at the office working with your favorite associate."

"And why do you think I'd be happy working on a Saturday morning, Miss Holt?"

"Because, Mr. Steele, after your strenuous effort to work on a Saturday morning, we are going to enjoy a wonderful lunch at Chez Rive, and maybe we could spend the rest of the day at the movies."

"You know, Laura, I always knew your devotion to work would bring something pleasurable to my life."

"Apart of the benefits in your bank account?" she asked sarcastically.

"Apart of the benefits in my bank account, indeed, Miss Holt. Shall we?" And with a grin on his face, he took her arm, and they continued their tour through the exhibition together.

Century City was like a deserted building on Saturdays. There were only security guards at the central hall, and the corridors were empty.

Laura was getting ready the last details for the meeting with their possible client when Mr. Steele arrived. With his "Morning, morning, morning," he walked right into his office. She was at his desk immersed in papers, and trying to make a background investigation to share with Mr. Steele before the meeting. The name "Hearst" had shown up in Mr. Shaw's background. It was exciting, but at the same time, they would have to be extremely careful with this client...

"Good morning to you," she answered, without taking her eyes from the papers.

She'd have spent the night there running searches to be with such a disorder on his desk, he thought. "Do you ever sleep, Laura?"

"Mr. Steele, we have to be as informed as we can before a meeting with a new client..."

"I suspect your working Saturday started early. Did you find anything interesting to share?" he asked.

"Well, only that the Hearst family is one of the richest in the country, and that they own some of the most known publications, such as The San Francisco Examiner, Cosmopolitan, TV channels, magazines and several newspapers all over the west coast."

"All well known, Miss Holt, all well known. And what does that have to do with the case?" And with an exasperated look through the display of papers Laura had done, he said, "Do you think we can make some order here? It looks like Columbo's desk!" And in a quick movement, he put all the papers mixed and rumpled into the always empty desk drawer. "Now it looks like Remington Steele's desk," he said satisfied. She was going to give him a bossy answer, but just at this moment, Mr. Shaw knocked on the opened door.

"Good morning Mr. Shaw." They said almost at the same time. After the polite greetings, Mr. Steele sat on his seat, and Laura stayed on his desk near the client, as usual, and then, they started with the meeting.

". "Maybe you've heard about the Hearst Castle?" Mr. Shaw said, "My father in law is Randolph Hearst."

Mr. Steele's eyes met Laura's for an instant. "Yes, we have, indeed. A very luxurious place, full of artworks fruit of your wife's grandfather's collector's thirst. There are more than 20,000 masterpieces there, one of the greatest collections in America, a property donated by the family to the State of California." Laura's eyes opened. How does he do that … to be very well informed without having taken one look at her dossier that was resting in the desk drawer? She thought.

"Yes," said Mr. Shaw, with surprise. "I see I came to the right place. Your information is exact." And adjusting in his seat, he continued. "We have a little issue right now. You may know I met my wife in prison. I was a guard while she was serving a sentence there. We met, fell in love, and got married. She was favored by an amnesty a while later and is free now. When she got out of prison, we started our marriage like everybody else, and we have a daughter now. We settled our family here, and I started to work with her family. I am in charge of the Hearst Castle Security."

Laura gave Mr. Steele a brief look. She knew then, just by the look on his face, that he remembered their travel to Carmel, the year before, and his intent to give a visit to the castle. She had refused to make that visit, arguing their duty to be on time on their case. But inside themselves, both knew that she denied him the pleasure of that detour because she was not sure about his true intentions. His previous secret life was always shadowing their present.

Mr. Shaw continued, "We have a lot of paintings there, and there is a panel of experts working on them all the time. They make sure the pieces are in good condition and sign a confirmation that they are originals after every review. It seems we have a problem with one of them. Once the expert began with the scheduled revision, he noticed that the painting in front of him was a fake... As I am in charge of the security, I am responsible for anything happening to the art pieces inside the castle."

"What do you think it happened?" asked an interested Laura.

"I can't figure out what happened. But there is another important thing for you to know. William Randolph Hearst was a brilliant man. As his success was getting larger, he thought that it would be dangerous for the members of the family to have all the information about the family fortune. So, he decided to create the Hearst Trust Board to handle it. The Board consists of a group of 5 members of the family and another group of 8 members from outside the family. The 8 member group is the one who knows the properties, how they are managed, and the earnings that every beneficiary receives. And they make the decisions about the estate. Any Hearst demanding to know the will's content will be disinherited. So, every member of the family has no power to decide about the destination of any property. The Trust Board manages it all.

"And what has that to do with the painting?" asked Laura

"When we got married, I signed a prenuptial agreement. In case of divorce, I would get out of my marriage as poor as I got in. And as I have nothing in my own name, and I am in charge of the security of the castle, I would be the first suspect of the painting's disappearance. The painting is not part of the Permanent Collection. It's borrowed from the family, and the legal paperwork was done by the Board. If the Board knows that the painting is not part of the collection anymore and that a fake is hanging on the castle's wall, they could demand my wife to be disinherited, accusing me of the disposal of family property."

"Oh My…," said Laura. "This is really serious. You want us to find the painting because if the Board discovers that had been stolen, your wife could lose her inheritance?"

"I see you've absorbed every detail, Miss Holt."

"Well. I'm afraid that we have to study the case for a while, Mr. Shaw. It's very complex, as you said last night, and we have to consider every detail before giving you a response. What do you think if we meet again here on Monday, let's say at 11:00am?" said Mr. Steele, standing up from the chair, followed by Laura.

"It'll be fine. Mr. Steele, Miss Holt, see you on Monday."

They shook hands, and Shaw left the office. They stood there in silence for some time. And then Mr. Steele asked, "What do you think?" trying to read anything in her face. He wasn't going to be the one to push over the decision. The case was substantial enough to blow up in their hands if misguided. And he didn't want Laura to take it without being entirely convinced.

She looked at him," Where should we start?"

"In the castle?" he answered, giving her a smiling gaze.

Smiling, she told him back, "I think our plans for an afternoon at the movies are changing. A visit to the Hearst Castle is in order, Mr. Steele. Do you mind?"

"Absolutely not, Miss Holt. After you…"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

They decided to take the Rabbit. It was a wonderful day, and the feeling of the breeze on their faces felt good. After driving for a while, a majestic avenue appeared on the view. The journey from the highway to the castle announced them that the final destination would be magnificent. They arrived at the villa about 4:00pm. "You know, Miss Holt, All my life, I've been looking for class...but this, this is the real thing.

"It's a real castle, isn't it?" she answered, absolutely dazzled.

They left the car in the parking lot and went directly to the information desk, where a lady was giving instructions to a group of tourists. They mixed into the group, and the visit began.

The tour started at the Casa Grande. They walked through several rooms, the Assembly room, the Theater, and finally, they entered the Gothic Study. The painting was there, hanging on the wall, surrounded by other art pieces. Nobody except an expert would be able to notice that it was not the original. The exquisite ambiance, the significant gold leaf frame, and the fascinating smell would fool anybody. Just when the group left the place, Mr. Steele approached the painting wall, trying to catch something out of place. Everything seemed in place. They followed the group, trying to go unnoticed by the museum staff, until the ending of the tour outside, at the Neptune Pool. The view took their breath away.

"Finally, Laura, we are in the middle of Eden. And nobody is shooting us this time," he said, pulling her to him, his hand on her back. "We should take advantage of the situation don't you think, Miss Holt?"

"You know, Mr. Steele, this is not the time or the place. Let's keep our senses tuned to the case. Who knows, maybe a new opportunity is waiting for us in LA…" she told him. She gave him a kiss on his cheek and disengaged herself from his arms, and went back to follow the group.

"Did you say opportunity? Hmmm…I think I could wait for that." He eagerly followed her barely able to wait.

On their way back to LA, after exchanging impressions, they decided to take the case. Even though it was an enormous responsibility, several matters made it just perfect for them. There was a heist, the stolen item was a painting, and luxury was surrounding the setting. Of course, neither of them could let this kind of challenge escape from their hands. The news would be broken to Mr. Shaw on Monday, on company time. Right then, they would spend the rest of the weekend with their minds on some different matters, Mr. Steele thought; Much more pleasurable ones than work.

They arrived back in LA late that night and had dinner at a lovely bistro. Mr. Steele felt luck was with him this night. After a delightful meal, they would end the evening at Rossmore, sipping champagne in front of the fire and who knows; maybe the romantic atmosphere would ignite another kind of flame…

But reality interfered just in time to send his dreams to the stratosphere. Only when they were getting out of the restaurant, Laura, like always, ruined it all, "Mr. Steele. I think we should call it a night. The case is complicated, and we have all the work ahead of us. What would you say if I dropped you at Rossmore, and continued on my way home? Tomorrow we could meet at the office about 11:00am to start working on the case." She looked at him and asked, "What do you think?"

"At the office at 11:00, on Sunday?" he asked completely baffled. "We've just spent our Saturday working, Laura."

"We have to break the news to Mr. Shaw on Monday. What do you think we are going to tell him if we are totally unprepared?"

Not believing how unbearable she could sometimes be, he answered with just an "Ok. Tomorrow. 11:00 Am. At the office. But just let me drive you to the loft, and I'll pick you up tomorrow." Driving her home would give him at least, the chance of a goodbye kiss outside the car, a little more romantic parting than the one she was suggesting.

Sunday was spent studying the case, searching for the most prominent LA art dealers able to discreetly offer the painting to selected buyers, figuring out their modus operandi on the case.

"Morning, morning, morning," said a cheerful Mr. Stele to Mildred.

"Good morning chief. Miss Holt called and said Mr. Shaw will be here at 11:00am. She'll try to be here on time, but if not, she said you should start the meeting without her. I'll be in with your tea in a minute, boss."

"Ok, Mildred. As it seems that our Miss Holt is late, and I am in charge, what do you think about bringing some croissants along with my tea? That would help to set my mind in a working mood," he told her.

"I'm on my way, boss. The paper is on your desk." She took her purse and left the office in a hurry to satisfy her boss's desires, eager to pamper him in every way possible as always.

Laura arrived a while later, just in time to have a little chat with the boss before Mr. Shaw's arrival. The previous day, after all the time they worked together, she brought a couple of files home. In there, she found something interesting she wanted to share with him. The stolen painting had a legitimate claim on it.

"Good morning Mr. Steele. I hope you are in a good mood today because I have interesting news to share before our meeting."

He raised his eyes from the paper, and he was on his feet in a jump. "Good morning Laura. I thought you were going to be late. I was going to start the meeting alone with Mr. Shaw." He left the paper on the desk, and looking at her with distinctive attention, he asked," What interesting news are you talking about?"

"Well, it seems that the "Alvise Vendramin Portrayal" is being claimed by a family from Germany. The claim says that the painting had been stolen by the Nazis in the 30's, and now, they want it back. The heirs of the real owner run an art gallery in Laguna Beach. I've been there talking with one of them early this morning. Mr. Steele, what if finding the painting closes our case, but is not the solution for our client?"

"Well, Miss Holt, perhaps we should ask that directly to him." And then looked to the office's door, where Mr. Shaw was standing open-mouthed.

"Come in, please, Mr. Shaw," said Laura. "Have a seat. I think we need to talk." After all the cards were already on the table, Mr. Shaw told them that he didn't have any idea about the claim. But that he would have to talk it with the Board. He was sure there wasn't going to be any problem with the return of the painting to the legitimate owners if their rights were legitimate. But that he wasn't going to talk to the Board without the painting in his hands. They would have to recover it first.

The Remington Steele Investigations Agency agreed to take the case, and after they asked for the castle plans, Mr. Shaw offered them the villa near the castle to stay while working on the case. The family was still the owner of the building, and it would be better for them to be near the action, just in case. It sounded convenient, so they agreed to meet there on Wednesday. It would give them some time for another round of research before being installed at the villa. Just when Mr. Shaw was leaving the agency, Mildred returned with Mr. Steele's croissants. They shared a late working breakfast along with the secretary. They filled her in on the case, and in a couple of hours, Miss Krebs' keyboard was on fire.

In the meantime, the detectives decided to investigate the cash flow routines from the most important art dealers in California. That would give them an idea if a big masterpiece were being sold around that time. When they were immersed in the files Mildred was getting, the plans arrived. They took a look at them and decided that there were a lot of places to investigate in situ. And that they should bring their stakeout attire for that matter, just in case.

After a hectic day covering the last details before their trip, they were on the way to the castle. This time, they went with the Auburn. A sophisticated touch to be more in sync with the atmosphere of the case. Once they arrived at the Castle, a butler guided them to an old Victorian house near the mansion. It was a lovely place, similar to the big one, but on a smaller scale.

"You know Laura; this castle was an inspiration for Orson Welles to create Citizen Kane. The movie is loosely based on the life of William Randolph Hearst, one of the most famous newspaper publishers of all time. Hearst himself tried to prevent the film's release, claiming it defamed his reputation. He offered to buy all the negatives to have them destroyed and refused to let the movie being advertised in his papers. Welles used Hearst's opposition to Citizen Kane as a pretext for previewing the film in several opinion-making screenings in Los Angeles, lobbying for its artistic worth against the hostile campaign that Hearst was waging. It was such a promotion at last.

"You know, I have to ask you something about that movie, Mr. Steele. Since there was no one in the room when Kane died, how does anyone know he even said "Rosebud"? Since there was no one in the room when Kane died, how does anyone know he even said "Rosebud"?" She was sure it was an astute question, and maybe for once, he wouldn't have the right answer to give her.

"Well Laura, at the end of the film, Raymond, Kane's butler, informed Thompson, the reporter, that he was in the room at the time of Kane's death and heard his dying words. Welles likely shot the death scene from the early part of the film the way he did, making it appear that no one else was nearby, to emphasize Kane's solitude."

"Do you always have to know every answer to a movie question?" she asked exasperatedly.

"A good Private Investigator always runs a background investigation before taking a case. You should know that, Laura. If your needing to be the professional one had not ruined our Sunday night, you'd know that I spent the end of the weekend watching Citizen Kane, just to be prepared."

"Of course… You are always such a devoted worker…"

They went to their bedrooms, an apartment with two suites and a fantastic lounge between them, all the windows with a splendorous sight of the Pacific Ocean. After they left their belongings, the investigation started. Just following the plan they'd made the day before, Mr. Steele began to check all the places he would have been in if he'd been a participant in the heist. In the meantime, Miss Holt went directly to the security office, to check about every security device set at the mansion. They met back to share the news before dinner. There wasn't any news from Mr. Steele's investigation. And Laura had a lot of tapes about the painting's room and the castle´s exits. The work had to be continued at night.

They had dinner in an exclusive dining room, wooden walls covered with magnificent tapestries, and a long table set only for the two of them. The menu was sublime, and the wine was from the castle's winery. It was superb.

After such a feast, they returned to duty. Miss Holt put the first tape into the tape recorder and sat down on the sofa. In a smooth move, Mr. Steele sat on the couch beside her to watch the recordings. The process was exhaustingly dull. A huge effort. The meal had been great, the wine had been great too, and after the drive, the day, and the work, the only thing that was on his mind, relaxing with her in his arms. Laura was not getting his point. He would have to start at square one. Little by little, he scooted over to her until they were almost touching. Then, he put his arm on her shoulders, just testing the waters. Nothing happened. So, after a while, he pulled her against him, and then she rested her head on his shoulder. Breathe, my boy, breathe, he thought. We are on the right path… And just when he was moving his hand under her chin to have the pleasure of a kiss, Laura jumped.

"Look at that!"She said.

"What?" he asked not believing his lousy luck. Every time his mouth was inches away from hers, something like that appeared to send the moment away.

"The shadow," she said.

"What shadow?" he asked incredulously

"The guard's shadow. At the beginning of his walk, the shadow was on his back, and at the end, it was on his left. The tape is not complete. Somebody cut it. Somebody cut a part! The painting must have been stolen between the two rounds of this turn. And if we take a look at the shadows, we can picture the time of them. We'll be at the Gothic Study tomorrow, to check on the shadows and set the real time of the theft. Maybe the guard has something to do with the heist. Or maybe not. Perhaps somebody cut the tape to make him look guilty. We are almost there Mr. Steele, we are almost there!" said a really thrilled Laura, rubbing her hands with excitement.

"We were almost there, Miss Holt. We were…" he said with a sigh and a voice full of deception.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter3:

The evening had an abrupt end. Just when things seemed to be working, Laura broke the spell, and a case was again between them. They kept watching the tapes for about an hour. Nothing else caught their attention in them. The next day, they'd have to make a visit to Mr. Shaw, to identify the guard. That would help them to set the time of the theft, too. When a tired Laura said her goodnights to Mr. Steele, he decided to stay in the living room for some extra moments savoring a glass of scotch.

Why were they always interrupted? He was wondering. Why was Laura always eager to escape from his arms? If the interruption was not from the outside, she was the one always ready to jump away from him. They would have to talk about it at some point. She'd said in Mexico that she was terrified of losing herself in him, afraid of falling too deep and being left like her mother. And he didn't have an idea about what to do to convince her that he was there to stay, not to leave. Half an hour later, he decided to go to his room but stopped at her door. Breathing deep, he knocked. Laura opened slowly, and he noticed she was ready for bed. She was looking beautiful with no makeup, her hair loose on her shoulders. It was the real Laura, not businesslike Miss Holt. He stared at her... When he realized she was getting impatient; he decided to put off the issue, and wait for a better opportunity. "Ahh, I only wanted to say goodnight…," he told her, looking straight into her eyes. She then looked down, guessing his feelings. They were her feelings too. But it wasn't the place or the time. With an extraordinary effort, she looked back into his eyes, and told him, "Goodnight to you too," and standing herself on tiptoe, she gave him a peck on his mouth. They both had their eyes closed and time stopped just for a while. Neither of them wanted to waste a second of it. They were saving it into their memories, just to be sure that the moment did exist.

The next morning, after breakfast, they visited Mr. Shaw's office. Once there, they talked with Agent Norton, Security Chief Officer, and with the tape operator. They identified the guard: a man named Roberts. After taking a look at the videos, they set the hour of his rounds. The man was called to the office, and after an insistent interrogation, they decided he didn't have anything to do with the facts. He was an honest man doing his job. But when the guard left the office, Mr. Steele asked Shaw, "Where do you recruit your staff, Shaw? What are the requirements to take the job?"

"Well, I knew a lot of penitentiary agents at my last job. I selected a few and trained them on other abilities related to security systems. They are all people I know. Honest people. Nobody here is related to the heist. I trust them. Why do you ask?"

"Just curiosity." Mr. Steele said. "See you later Shaw." With that, they left the office.

"You know Laura; all the guards involved in the security of the Castle have been in touch with criminals at some point through their work. I am not saying that they remain in touch with them, but what if some information about the security system leaked, unintentionally to dangerous people? Maybe just a comment would be enough to send a lot of wires in action."

"Hmmm… you could be right. Money and power are magnets to send sensitive wires into action. And we have both here in this place. We need to get a list of the guards, the prisons they worked in, and the names of the prisoners they were taking care in there. If there is something to find, this will give us a clue to start." They returned to the security office and asked Shaw for that list. He would get it ready for them in a couple of hours.

The next step would be a stroll at the Castle's park, trying to find a place for somebody to get in and out of the property without being seen. There was a perimeter fence all around the estate, with cameras strategically located. Every place was in sight from the camera room. It was almost impossible to make an escape through the gardens. That left only one thing to review. The drain pipes. By the information they had from the plans, there were two master drain lines for all the buildings. And they flowed directly to the ocean. There, they had a possibility... But there have to be an access to the pipes from inside the gardens.

They returned to their bedrooms to re-check on the plans. There was a treatment plant, but outside of the property. Another dead end.

The list they asked for in the morning was on the living room table. Agent Norton left it there, with a note, making himself available for anything they would need. There were a lot of people working in the security staff. The group was divided into three shifts, 8 hours each. An ordinary guard day began at the changing room. Every employee had to pick up his weapon at the armory, and then, after signing up, go to their workplace. They had to score their rounds in several devices set all around the grounds. Once they finished their shifts, they'd sign out; leave the gun, so the work day would be over. Everything was perfectly scheduled. They didn't find anything out of place. The guard's records didn't have anything suspicious catching their attention either.

Mr. Steele started pacing. "We have the facts in front of us, and we can't find anything yet. We have to change strategies, Miss Holt. Try to think as the thief thinks. Try to get into his mind. "

"Well, I don't think we should have any problem with that. Just think like your old self would. Let's put our minds at the crime scene." She stated the idea with intent and rose up. He was still pacing, thinking about her idea while Laura was walking off from the room. "Care to join me, Mr. Steele?" In a second, he was behind her, walking straight to the Gothic Study, inside the castle.

"I have a theory," said Miss Holt.

"Be my guest," answered Mr. Steele suddenly relieved. She was good…

"We should think as a possibility the painting never leaving the mansion. It could be hidden here, at any place. Let's begin a short routine. Maybe if we put the facts upside down, we could find something. The thief is ready to leave the room once the job is done. He can do it carrying the painting with him or simply leaving it hidden here. Before that, he should have been at the room alone for enough time to take the original from its frame and to replace it with a fake. Before that, he had to come to this room with the replacement copy he was going to use with him. Before that, he had to bring the copy into the mansion. That's it! We have to look at the staff entries surveillance videos, looking for someone carrying an item the size of the painting. Any idea, Mr. Steele?"

"Awww, Laura…Tapes? Again?" He said without hiding his displeasure

"Tapes, Mr. Steele. Again. Entry's tapes. Let's go ask for them." With a triumphant smile plastered in her face, Miss Holt led the walk, followed close by a very tired Mr. Steele. It was going to be another of those nights, in front of the TV screen, just without the pleasure of Casablanca, or any other classic movie. Another evening full of tapes of employees getting into the castle. The sad part was that Laura was going to be at his side, in full work mode, wasting a romantic place, wasting the joy of a night full of opportunities, but only paying attention to the boring tapes. Frustrating? That was the kindest word he could think of, at this very moment. He was genuinely disappointed, on how the events were keeping them together but not together.

Late in the evening, they were studying the tapes for the umpteenth time. Just when they were starting to worry, because they weren't getting anywhere, somebody knocked on the door. The butler gave them an envelope. Mr. Shaw had received it. It was directed to him. There was a note inside. Laura read it:

Mr. Bernard Shaw:

I have one thing you are looking for. You have one thing I am looking for.

We need to make a deal. Refusing is not a good idea. You'd lose everything.

Stop your detectives. Send them home. I'll send you new instructions soon.

No signature, no stamps, no clues.

"My instincts are telling me the author has left the painting inside the castle, Miss Holt. Which means, it would be in a place where our thief could move with ease avoiding the cameras. I think a stake-out is in order, Miss Holt."

They were dressed all in black as always. Mr. Steele was picking the lock at the guard's wardrobe room. The round guard had just passed by, and they'd have about 15 minutes before the next one. The lock clicked, opening the door, and they got in. It was a large place, with lockers on both sides of the hall, against the walls. The lights were off, and they were lighting their targets with a flashlight. The cameras were set to start working with the light switch turning on. The room was empty. Nobody was authorized to be there during work hours. The doors could be opened only when they were changing shifts, and once the guards ending their duties were out, and the new ones were already on their rounds, the door was locked until the next round change. The lockers had names on their fronts. The detectives found the name of the guard they interviewed on one of them. Mr. Steele peeked inside, and after a brief look, he smiled at Laura. They'd finally found something. A stapler. A handy stapler to clip the forged painting to the original frame. Just when they were closing the locker, they heard a click on the lock, and the door opened. They turned off the flashlight, and ran as quickly as they could, to hide in the only place provided with doors in the whole room: the bathroom. They were praying to not have the luck to be in the wrong place at the wrong time when the intruder that was inside the dressing room went directly to where they were hiding. The lights were still off. They were paralyzed, standing awkwardly with their feet over the toilet, when the intruder, after a brief stop at the lockers, went to the very same room they were hiding, put on the lights, walked to the sinks and opened the taps. They weren't even breathing. Now that the room was illuminated, the camera should be working. Laura was starting to slide off her support. She had the stapler in her right hand, and her left one was on the tile wall, trying to maintain her in place, in front of Mr. Steele. He knew at that very moment that a bold move was urgent to stop her from slipping down. Keeping himself in place with his left hand on the wall, he caught Laura from behind by her waist, and in one strong pull, they were pressed against each other from head to knees. She warned him with a look that any further bold moves would be extremely dangerous for them, but he answered by kissing her hard, trying to keep her mouth shut and her mind occupied. But of course, taking advantage of the moment as well, just in case it was one of the last for them together. After a second into the kissing, Laura seemed to change opinion and sank into the sensations. When the light went off, they were still with their lips locked. They disengaged themselves, and while making them presentable, Mr. Steele said, "By all means, Laura, that was… I'm speechless."

"What's wrong with you?" she asked him furiously, but still in a whisper.

"Nothing you can't fix, The Big Sleep, Humphrey Bogart, Lauren Bacall, Warner Brothers, 1946. You'd play a wonderful Vivian, Laura!" he answered in a whisper too, arching his eyebrows with a wicked smile.

"I can't believe you can think about movies in a situation like this." And making a gesture just wanting to strangle him, she left the bathroom stall visibly angry, her fury able to be watched even in the dark.

"And I thought the dangerous part was the kiss," he said following her and checking for cameras on their way out, just to be ready for another fit of her rage. But the bathroom was the only room of the place without them.

They returned to their rooms, Laura still furious, and made plans for the next day. They should call Mildred to run a search about that guard. Maybe the guy was in need of money or something like that. There were a lot of temptations in there for a man with money issues, or for a man with the desire for another one's possessions. Just after the last word about the case was spoken, Laura walked back to her room, without even a goodnight word getting out of her mouth. Business must be the matter in her mind from that time on. But Mr. Steele's thoughts were different ones. His mind didn't remain on the case. The memories of their brief interlude would still exist in his dreams, and with some luck, the night would be less lonely for him.

After breakfast, they went to Shaw's office to break the news to him. Steele wasn't sure if they were good news or bad news.

On the one hand, they had found the stapler, and it seemed that they were getting closer to the guilty party. But on the other hand, the man that was being implicated was Shaw's employee. A man he trusted on. And that wasn't good at all.

Mildred's response arrived fast. The guy didn't have any trouble in the past. No record at all. Nada. He didn't even exist. It was a problem in itself, and they would have to discover it. As the case was getting more dangerous by the hour, they would have to be extremely careful. They would start the man's inquiry checking on the information that was in his files, as an employee of Mr. Shaw's security company. A working afternoon in San Simeon was in order.

They arrived at the address Roberts filled in his application. It was a small house, in the east part of town, in a modest neighborhood. They started their routine at the store at the end of the street. When they asked about him by his name, nobody knew the man. But then, when they showed his picture to the store manager, he recognized him, but not as Adam Roberts, but as Adam Blum. He was a very charming man that had moved there about two years ago. After some juicy answers, their job there was done.

"I think we've found something here, Mr. Steele," Laura said. "Let's return to the Castle to make another call to Mildred. Why don't you play boss for a while? You know she always works in overdrive when the order comes from you."

"I'll call the lady right from the next phone we find. In the meantime, what do you think about spending some time at a table in that lovely bistro, Miss Holt? I think I'd work better after having a palatable incentive."

"Let's go incentive your mood, Mr. Steele," she rolled her eyes and sighed, knowing that he would be insufferable without some food in his stomach. The man was always hungry… for everything but work.

"Allow me, Miss Holt." They made their way to the restaurant, and when they were waiting for their table to be ready, Steele took advantage of the free moment to make the call from the pay phone on the lobby. "Hello Mildred, Steele here. I need to ask you a favor. We need something about a guy named Adam Blum. Last known residence: San Simeon. Blum, B-L-U-M. Yes, call back to the Castle as soon as you find something. It's urgent. Thank you, Miss Krebs. Bye, bye."

Laura was sitting at their table already, trying to choose something light from the menu when he came back. A green salad with brie cheese sounded perfect. Light, but tasty. Mr. Steele didn't think anything green would do it, as always. Once the waiter arrived to take their order, he dispatched himself with a salmon salad, as a first course, and some light pasta: Striped Cheese Ravioli with lobster, wild mushrooms, and a lobster cream sauce as the main one, and a red Californian wine bottle to color the menu. He was not in a rush.

"I thought your palatable incentive was going to be an incentive, not a meal like the last one you would eat," said Laura, not without a hint of irony.

"You have to always be prepared for pleasure in this life, Miss Holt. Why leave the most enjoyable experiences for later? Besides, we are in a lovely place; nobody is trying to kill us, yet …"

"Don't be so sure, Mr. Steele. Just wait until we arrive at a private place, and you'll feel the experience of my killer hands on your throat," she threatened him with a critical gaze.

"Let's enjoy the moment then, Miss Holt," and with a smile, he raised his glass trying to make a toast, but only realizing he was alone in the attempt.

Once they returned to the mansion, they made a stop at their rooms, and just when they were starting their way to Shaw's office to deliver the news about his employee, the call from Mildred arrived. Mr. Steele answered the phone and listened in complete silence to all the data Mildred had found for them. "You are not going to believe this, Laura: Adam Roberts, also known as Adam Blum, does exist. He is a private investigator. He has a License from the State of California."

"A private investigator? What is he doing working here as a security guard?"

"Well, maybe he is working undercover, don't you think? Private investigators use to do that."

"But what would he be investigating? Our case is supposed to be secret. Nobody but Shaw and the expert that made the check on the painting actually knows about the theft."

"I think our friend Shaw can give us an answer," said Steele. They started their way toward their client's office, with Mr. Steele giving thanks for their previous meal. The day was getting longer every minute.

"I don't know anything about it," said Shaw. "Just wait a minute. I'll call him, and the four of us will have a talk." Roberts arrived at the office a couple of minutes later. He was noticeably nervous. One of the ugliest things that could happen to a PI working undercover was actually, to be discovered. He knew he was in trouble, and confessed who his clients were. Or maybe he should call them bosses. The Board sent him there, to keep an eye on Shaw. They used to do that in every Hearst Company, to watch the internal operation, and have a direct inside source of information.

With Roberts out of the equation, they were at square one again; and time was running out. The case was getting more complicated every minute.

About an hour after a late dinner, they were in their living room, trying to figure out something in the middle of a brainstorm, when somebody knocked on the door. It was Mr. Shaw. He came in, and Steele offered him a scotch. Glass in hand he started with the speech he had decided to give them.

"Mr. Steele, Miss Holt, I am sorry, I am very sorry. I want you two out of the case now. Things are getting very dangerous here, and I don't want this blowing up over all of us. I am going to call the Board, and give them my resignation. I received a second message this afternoon, and I don't like how things are happening."

"A second message? What does it say? "Asked Laura.

"I have it right here." He said. And taking it out of his pocket, he gave the piece of paper to Mr. Steele.

We are dated to make our exchange tomorrow, 9:00pm, at San Simeon Rd at W R Hearst Memorial State Beach. I'll return the painting to you, and you'll pay a ransom for it. But money is not what I'm looking for. Your wife is... Be sure she gets there in time.

"Oh my God!" said Laura. "He wants your wife."

"Yes," said a defeated Mr. Shaw. "I can't allow this to happen. I'll never allow my wife to be in such danger. She doesn't deserve that. I'll quit the job, take all the responsibility, and ask for a divorce. Then she will be out of danger, far from me, far from the painting, and far from this insanity. Maybe the Board will understand, after all, and she should not be disinherited because of my mistakes."

"Wait, wait, wait," said Steele. "I think you are hurrying things a bit, Shaw. You aren't going to fix anything with your resignation to your job or to your wife. If the one that is claiming her as a ransom wants her, he will not give out just because you are out of the picture. He 'd try to get to his target anyway, and this time your wife will be all alone, trying to understand why the man that loved her through the saddest times, left her just at the moment she needed him the most. You have to stay with her, and together, you'll find a solution."

Mr. Shaw was looking at the floor, his face full of sadness. "Do you have any suggestions?" he asked.

"Tomorrow, 9:00pm, at the Beach… Let me see. We have one entire day until then."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

The plan was almost ready. At the moment, it wasn't important if the painting was at the castle or not, if the thief was an employee or not, if the Board was going to know all about this mess or not. The most important thing was that the thief wasn't just a thief. He was insane. He wanted Mr. Shaw's wife. And stealing the painting was only a trick to get to his prize.

At last, Mrs. Shaw knew the situation and agreed to continue with the plan. Mrs. Shaw would be at the meeting place at the right hour. They would have to catch the criminal in the scene of the crime, but before he could cause her any harm. The painting was not the subject to work for anymore. Mrs. Shaw's safety was.

After Laura and Mr. Steele explained it to the couple, the Board agreed too to go on with the operation's execution. The artwork wasn't relevant enough to put any lives in danger. And if it wasn't recovered, at least there was an insurance policy to be collected.

Just about 8:00pm, a limousine arrived, with Mr. and Mrs. Shaw inside. Mr. Steele and Miss Holt had gone to the Police Station to alert them about what was going to happen that night. They'd had to maintain their distance because the author of the messages didn't want anything to do with the detectives near the exchange. At the end of the day, they would meet with Mr. Shaw to arrange the last details for the transaction.

A very secret operation was on, with the anti-kidnapping squad ready to get into action. The beach was monitored from the sea by divers prepared to jump from their boats in the case the sea was the criminal's planned escape route. And the roads were closed because the authorities didn't want to risk people moving around the meeting place.

Everything was ready. The clock was ticking. The limo approached the deal's zone, and then Mr. Shaw got out of the car. After a heartrending sight, he put his hand on the roof and taped it. The car began its march. He remained hidden in the dark beside Mr. Steele and some police officers.

The car followed its way. Then, in the correct place, stopped, turned off the lights, and started the wait. A couple of minutes after, a motorbike arrived. Without stopping the engine, the driver descended, a cylinder hanging on his back. He walked towards the limo. He was carrying the painting, as he promised. The helmet didn't allow the security forces to see his face. But something was wrong in this scene. Why was he carrying the painting with him? He had to know that with that recovered; the only thing left was being arrested before he could get near Mrs. Shaw. But maybe he didn't want anything else. Perhaps the only thing he wanted was a flash encounter and to run away with her as a hostage.

He made a gesture for her to get out of the car. She did it. He continued his approach, took off the helmet, and after taking a look at her, he shouted, "You are not Alex! Who are you?"

Laura, who had her face in the dark, took off her hat, and told him, "Give up, Norton, you are surrounded."

Mr. Shaw, who was hidden behind some cars beside Mr. Steele yelled, "Norton!"

Realizing they weren't alone, and that the woman in front of him was not Patty, Norton jumped over Laura, putting his arm around her neck, and pointing a gun at her temple. Then, he started his way back to his vehicle dragging her with him. Steele and Shaw couldn't believe why the police didn't open fire when they had the chance. Norton was ready to leave with Miss Holt as his hostage when the limo door opened again, and Mrs. Shaw got out of it, shouting to Norton.

"No, Rudy. Please, don't hurt her. You don't want to do that. Let her go."

Just when Norton heard Alex's voice, he stopped. At that very moment, and taking advantage of him neglecting his hold on Miss Holt, a hidden sniper fired a shot. The man fell down on the ground. The show was over.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5:

It was a glorious morning in California. The sun was up, and the sky was clean. The fresh breeze was a reminder of the ocean. A perfect day to swim. Laura was reading the last pages of the report they were going to send to the Board, explaining the resolution of the case. Mr. and Mrs. Shaw were spending a week in San Francisco, Norton was in jail waiting for his trial, and the painting was on the way to its real owners.

Signing the file, the case was closed. Laura got up from the chair and went outside, where Mr. Steele was laying on a deck chair.

"There, Miss Holt. Come here! Don't waste the opportunity to live a day like a millionaire! The water is perfect, and your drink is waiting for you right beside mine."

She sat down under the umbrella beside him and said, "Mr. Steele…you know, sometimes this kind of case takes me by surprise. I was in a full business mode, trying to find the clues to solve the perfect heist when suddenly the case ends up as a romantic drama. Norton was a guard at Alex's prison with Douglas. They were friends. When Douglas got married and started his own security company, Norton was the first person he hired to be part of it. They were almost partners. But Norton was in love with Shaw's wife."

"Hmmm, sorrowful indeed, Laura. The man was out of his mind. He was the one controlling the security system at the castle. Everything passed by him. He knew every detail about the Board and all those rules about properties, and secrets, and inheritance. And most important, he knew how to hit Shaw straight in his heart. "

"They were best friends. He had all the information. The only thing that still intrigues me is how did he got away with the substitution of the painting," said Laura.

"I think I've just unveiled that mystery, Miss Holt. Norton wasn't the first prison guard in the family. His father worked in Alcatraz for almost all his life. He knew a lot of criminals there. But he remained friends with one: Paul Minetta."

"And why did Paul Minetta end up at Alcatraz, should I ask, Mr. Steele?" said Laura, already savoring his response.

"The FBI, Efrem Zimbalist Jr., Phillip Abbot, Warner Brothers, 1969. A famous forger is seeking the approval of the Mafia's High Commission to expand his operation, which involves producing forgeries of paintings and selling them to museums, foundations, and other buyers. Well, Laura, it looked like Paul Minetta was one of the best forgers in the world. He worked for several art thieves. They stole original paintings, made a forgery, and sold it as real, maintaining the originals for themselves. They sold forgeries all over the world. It was suspected that he was still working when he left prison. He was old, but his art was still impressive."

"So, Norton hired him to make the Alvise Vendramin's Portrait forgery, and he promised the original to Minetta. Then, he would paint another one, and sell it as the real one," she added.

"Splendid, Laura! I realize you are starting to think like a thief to solve the cases. It's an interesting tactic" And with that, he caught her belt and pulled it off of her robe.

"Mr. Steele," asked Laura, "why do I get the feeling I'm going to lose this time?"

"Why, Miss Holt? Some losses can be taken as wins. Just keep your mind open, and you'll see…

"Enjoy the ride, Mr. Steele. You may get lucky today."


End file.
